Between the Raindrops
by Rosa3098
Summary: Katniss/Peeta. Katniss was born in the Capitol. One day she is sent to District Twelve where she finally meets the famous Peeta Mellark; The rick baker who, for some reason, wants to avoid the President's eldest daughter. AU.
1. Chapter 1

**This is a new story i'm trying out. There won't be that many chapters but I promise that each one will be long.  
It's rated M for future scenes - but don't worry. I won't make them too explicit. Haha  
Enjoy.**

**Playlist: Lifehouse - Between The Raindrops ft. Natasha Bedingfield**

* * *

**Chapter 1**

_Okay_

* * *

Epilogue

_"You're not a princess, Katniss."_

_I sighed in content as he kissed my collarbone. My neck. My cheek. My lips._

_"Then what am I?" I managed to get out. He pressed his body against mine; I bit my lip to keep from making another strange noise. I could see the smile on his face as he kissed me from above._

_"You are beautiful." He whispered. "You're perfect." I groaned as he connected our lips forcefully. "You are so, so beautiful." One of my hands snaked their way into his hair while the other pressed him closer to me. "You're a huntress." He whispered against my lips. I sighed. "And you're mine." And that was it. I wrapped both my arms around his body and held him to me, not kissing, not moving, and barely breathing. I never thought I would feel this way about someone._

_"And you're mine." I whispered. "Only mine." He kissed me gently, once, twice. . ._

_"I love you," He whispered against my lips. And suddenly, I'm not thinking about what others will think. I don't care about what Effie will say or what punishment awaits me back home. All I can focus on is him. My baker. My lover. The boy with the blue eyes._

_"I love you." I whispered as I brought our lips together once more._

* * *

Princess. That's what they call me. Panem's Princess. Never mind that our country isn't a monarchy. Ever since I can remember I've been treated like the innocent, lovely, young lady whose daddy rules the great nation of Panem. And I act the part because I couldn't disappoint my father who has worked so hard for this country. But my sister is a different story; she couldn't care less.

We don't talk.

The family dinners we have every weekend are filled with such animosity and tension that it's hard to scarf down the too-sweet food. Primrose never looks up from her food and in that rare moment when she does, she either glares at our new step-mother or at me. She never talks. She never smiles. She never makes any noise unless it's to argue or insult someone. Other than that it's easy to forget she's there.

"So, Katie, tell me how have you been?" Our stepmother asks. She asks this every night and I would always answer with fine while ignoring the silly name she's come up for me. She sometimes calls Primrose 'pim pim' but that only earns her a death glare. "What is District Four like?" She asks.

I think her name is Pricilla. She's twenty three. I used to wonder why my father married woman old enough to be my sister but now I see that it's because they look like my mother. They're always blonde, thin, blue eyed. I'm sure they know that the only reason my father married them is because of their appearance but they won't care as long as they get money and fame. And if they have to put up with two grumpy teenagers – so be it.

"Big." I answer. "Humid. Warm."

"I hear you got cozy with the handsome Odair. . . ." She trails off suggestively. "I bet the District wasn't the only thing that was_ big_ and warm."

Primrose drops her spoon and her eyes widen. My father chokes on his drink.

"Darling that is not appropriate talk. . ." Father warns. I wonder what it's like to date someone as hormonal as his teenage daughters. Must be fun.

Primrose looks up from her plate. Her stare is filled with shock, disgust, and guess who it's all aimed at?

"I'm full." Primrose stands. She wipes her hands on the napkin and throws it on her plate before walking out the dining room.

"Chef worked so hard to prepare this dinner and she just runs off!" She shakes her head in anger. "Darling, she's going to be spoiled and shallow if you don't do something! And I will not tolerate any spoiled daughters! "

"How ironic." I murmur.

"Excuse me?" Pricilla scowls – at least I think she's scowling. The Botox must prohibit her from showing emotion.

"Nothing."

**0o0o0o0o0o**

That night I begin to think about District Four and Finnick. I think about Johanna and Annie. I think about District 11 where Rue jumps from tree to tree and with each thought I begin to feel an aching in my chest. An aching for normal people with morals and dignity, for the people I can be myself around.

Every day I'm overwhelmingly thankful for the fact that my father sends me to one District each year for nine months. At first it was a way for me to get to know the citizens of Panem – my mother's idea then when she died he sent me there just so he wouldn't have to deal with a child who (according to Johanna) reminded him so much of his wife.

But I'm okay with it because it has stopped me from becoming someone I hate. I'm thankful I'm not shallow and inconsiderate like Pricilla. I'm thankful I'm not lonely and angry like Primrose.

So that morning when Effie comes in my room and hands me a train ticket to District Twelve, my heart leaps with joy.

"Your father thinks you and your sister are too much of a nuisance to Pricilla." Effie announced with a smile.

"I thought we weren't allowed in District twelve?" I say as the maids brought out my luggage. But I could care less.

"I assume you were an . . . exception." I don't ask anymore because Cinna chose to burst through the doors holding a black bag. I look at Effie for an explanation. Cinna is my stylist but he's rarely around. The only time he visits is when he has something special to deliver.

"Your father prepared a goodbye dinner for you. It's at five, be ready by then." Effie flipped through the pages of the notebook she always carried and wrote something quickly. "Gale will be there."

Gale.

Cinna looks anxiously at me. Gale is a wealthy twenty year old man from District two. We met a few years ago and have been inseparable ever since. Then I met Finnick in District four and things just . . . changed.

"It'll be nice to see him." I smile and shrug.

**0o0o0o0o0o**

It surprises me when Gale immediately comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. He gently kisses my cheek.

"Catnip!" When I first met him I was shy and quiet. I whispered my name so low that he thought I had said Catnip. I've stopped trying to correct him.

"Hello." We haven't talked in two years.

"I've missed you." He whispers. "A lot."

I'm confused because last time I saw Gale he was yelling at me, calling me foul names. He said he never wanted to see me again.

I bet his mother had something to do with this.

"We have a lot to talk about you know,"

"This is my last day in the Capitol." I tell him.

"So?" he rolled his eyes. "I'll go with you. Where are you going? Seven? One? Four?" I notice that his hand clenched into a fist at the mention of Four.

"Twelve." His smile fades because he's realized that he can't follow me to District Twelve.

Twelve still has its "no Capitol citizens" law. Father has been trying to ease the tension the past few years. It's a miracle I'm allowed to go.

"President Everdeen has done a really good job uniting the country." A nervous chuckle passed his lips.

"Yes." I agree.

"Well no matter. We'll have plenty of time to talk when you come back." I didn't have time to ask what he meant because at that moment Effie ushers me to a spot on the grand table next to Primrose. She's going to District Twelve too and I think this is her first time leaving the Capitol.

"Hello, Primrose." It's an effort to get her to turn away from me. Usually, at the sound of my voice, she just scowls and ignores me but not this time. I cringe away from her hard blue eyes and expressionless face.

"I don't like you." She whispers.

"Excuse me?" Sure, I already knew that but It's an entirely different thing to hear her say it aloud. She strokes the rim of her glass and a cold smile replaces her scowl.

"Cato. . . Marco . . . Arian. . . . Finnick, Thresh, Riley, Gale. . ." Her icy blue eyes meet mine again. "One for each District."

She can't seriously think that I've been with them. Sure I had a thing for Cato and Marco once but that was years ago. And those relationships didn't move past hand holding and a few kisses here and there.

"You've got it completley wrong." But she's done listening to me. She turns away and strokes the rim of her glass.

**0o0o0o0o0o**

We arrive in District Twelve in a plane three hours after our departure. I avoid Primrose whenever I can. It isn't too hard. I just have to avoid walking past the room with loud music.

"What a strange, closed off girl." Effie once commented when we sat down for dinner and Primrose didn't show. "I blame the mother. Selene wasn't right in the head." Selene was father's third wife. She looked exactly like my mother and he was infatuated. He gave her everything she asked for which wasn't much. A month after their marriage she became pregnant and she killed herself the night after Primrose was born.

Our welcome to the District is simple. There are a few decorations here and there. The lamppost have been done up in bows and ribbons, there are balloons and a crowd waiting for us. The mayor is waiting to greet us, his daughter trails behind him. Effie stays for thirty minutes – the allotted time for a visiting Capitol Citizen.

I look around expecting to see sky scrapers and parks with tall green trees and squirrels and birds. It's what every other District looks like – with the exception of Four who has Palm Trees and beaches. Instead I see small shops, cozy looking houses, trees, flowers etc. There are no cars, no busy streets. No bustling cities.

Primrose seems delighted though. Her usually cold and distant look is replaced with interest.

"Are those Primrose flowers?" She asks.

The mayor's daughter, Marguerite, nodded. "We planted them just for your arrival." She turned to me. "Sorry, Katniss flowers only grow in certain environments."

I didn't realize that Katniss flowers existed.

"It's fine."

Marguerite nods. As we walk towards the car I notice that Marguerite turns to look at me from the corner of her eyes every so often. It doesn't necessarily make me uncomfortable. Her stares are curious – but not in a bad way. It's in the way a child might react to meeting a person they've only ever heard about.

"What is it?" I finally ask her.

"You look different from the magazines and pictures." Somehow her comment rubs me the wrong way.

"The people in the magazines are dressed in the latest fashion but it doesn't mean they wear that every day. Do you expect for me to wear feathered dresses and pink in my hair every day?" She blushes.

"I-I'm sorry – I didn't mean it like that."

"It's okay." I reassure her. She opens the car door for me. It's the first car I've seen in District Twelve and its last year's model. I thank her. Marguerite waits for Primrose to go in next but my half-sister just shakes her head.

"Want to sit next to the window?" I ask her. Prim nods. No, she just doesn't want to sit next to me. I think. As we drive I notice there are only small, family owned businesses here. There are no brand names stores or restaurants like in every other District. Huh, strange. Then something catches my eye. It's a building bigger than the others with glass windows and a familiar logo sitting at the top.

There's a Mellark Bakery here. A Mellark Bakery in District twelve.

One of the most well-known bakeries is in a District with less than a million people. There's hundreds in each district and thousands in the capitol but I didn't know there were any here.

I love their Cheese Buns.

"I wonder if Peeta's home." Marguerite smiles as we pass. It wasn't a normal smile. It was one I've seen Annie and Cashmere do around a guy they like.

"Peeta Mellark?" I ask. The name was all too familiar. After all, I had invited that man to countless parties and dinners. Like the other citizens of District Twelve, Peeta Mellark can leave and return whenever he wishes.

"Yes, his whole family lives here."

"Do they ever leave the District?"

"Yes, he and his brother leave whenever a new store is opened." Marguerite pouted.

"The country is growing, Madge, more people want modern stores such as the Mellark Bakery." Mr. Undersee said.

"Madge?" I ask. "I thought your name was Marguerite."

"It is but everyone just calls me Madge." She blushes.

Peeta Mellark never accepts my invitations. I've seen Peeta Mellark before – in pictures of course. He's handsome. He has vivid blue eyes, pale blonde hair, a sturdy frame . . . a nice face and body. Cashmere and Clove faint at the mention of his name and Johanna wants to do unspeakable things to him. Even Finnick admitted that Peeta was handsome, but 'not as handsome as myself mind you'. He's always dressed in the latest fashion. He wears bright jackets and hats with feathers. Nothing but the best.

He's rich, wealthy. . . . Perfect really.

I'm _dying_ to know what Peeta Mellark is really like.

**0o0o0o0o0o**

We are dragged through other welcoming ceremonies for the next three hours. Our first stop is the Justice Building. Primrose and I have to sign some documents, then we're off to the mayors house where a party is being held for us. At one point during the party, I manage to escape after a drunkard by the name of Haymitch Abernathy spilled his drink over me and proceeded to vomit in the same spot.

The sun has long set and the moon risen. The moon casts an eerie glow on every object in the sky and I'm surprised to see a cluster of stars when I look up. I smiled to myself. We don't see things like this at the Capitol.

"Lost, princess?"

"No." I said. "And I'm not a princess." I don't bother to turn around. It's probably just a server coming to get me.

"Everyone calls you princess."

"Are you everyone?"

"Touché." I expect him to have left because there's sudden silence around me. But when I turn around he's still there, staring.

"What are you doing out here?" I ask. "Are you not enjoying the party?"

"How could anyone expect to enjoy the party if even the guest of honor herself isn't having any fun?"

"Touché.". He looks at me then up at the sky, a smile hangs on his lips. We stand in a comfortable silence for a few minutes just staring at the stars. It's too dark to see his face but I can tell he's blonde.

"Well, I should go. It was nice to finally meet you Katniss." He stepped toward me and caught my hand in his. His hand was soft and warm against mine. He reached down to press his lips softly to my knuckles, his eyes never leaving mine. They're blue. Bluer than the sky and bluer than the ocean. They're captivating. He smiles, turns, and leaves, with only a wave of his hand as a goodbye.

I realize later on that night that I never asked what his name was.

**0o0o0o0o**

Primrose looked like she wanted to throw a vase at me. When we arrived, I let it slip that I would like to meet Peeta Mellark and since Primrose already thinks I'm some kind of man-eating whore. . .

Thankfully Mr. Undersee and his daughter had left by that time.

"What is the matter with you?" I ask when she did fling a vase at me. Thankfully it didn't break and just landed on the couch.

"I'm stuck with you!" She answers as she storms off to her bedroom and slams the door shut. I remind myself that i'll have to deal with her for nine months and that going up to her room and slapping her silly will _not _make those nine months more enjoyable. . . . maybe.

I didn't notice the picture frames of my mother and father when we arrived but I did notice them when I went downstairs in the middle of the night to get something to drink. I was too tired to stay awake and when I woke up in the morning, they were gone.

I'm sure I imagined them because when mother died, father destroyed all of her pictures.

But seeing them (if i did see them) reminded of how much Primrose and my mother looked alike. The resemblance was uncanny. They had the same blonde hair color, the same cold blue eyes, the same face, they moved with grace and confidence. . . Primrose is everything her mother wasn't. She's everything my father wants his wives to be.

I'm actually surprised our father sent her here with me. I think he likes Primrose best because she looks like what I_ should _have looked like. Not only that but the people like her attitude. People like her spunk, her unpredictability. They say she's the embodiment of rebellion. She's Panem's Rebel. Panem's Princess. Panem's Rebel. Johanna used to joke that the tittles were mixed up. That Primrose was the princess, that _she's _the one that tries to be what the people want her to be. She acts how everyone wants her to act. She follows there orders and tries to please her people - like a Princess is. But that no one tells me to act a certain way or say a certain thing. The only reason people call me the Princess is because my father called me that when i was born. He said I was his baby girl, his little princess. And it just stuck, but if they knew about my archery lessons, my hunting trips with Thresh and Rue, my fighting lessons with Cato and Clove, they would change their mind.

At first I agreed, i even tried to talk to Primrose because I was convinced her rudeness was all an act. But it isn't.

_ There is no nice little girl inside of Primrose._

* * *

"I'm going to the bakery." It's an effort to be more civil towards Primrose. (And it's also an attempt to prevent breakable things being flung at my head.) She doesn't acknowledge my presence and focuses on her book. "Bye." I said.

I leave the door unlocked on my way out.

"Ah! Miss Everdeen!" It's the first thing that greets me when I close the door. It came from Haymitch Abernathy. I met him yesterday but only briefly at the party. I hear that he prefers to be surrounded by alcohol rather than people.

"Mr. Abernathy." I forced a smile. I still haven't forgotten how he spilled vodka all over my shoes.

"I see you're living at the old mansion. I can't say I'm surprised." He said. I turn back to the house behind me. That's hardly a mansion. It's just a very big house not unlike the others here on this street.

"Why is that?"

"I'm afraid I can't say, Miss Everdeen."

"Why not?"

He studied the drink in his hands for a long moment before looking back to me. "You looked much prettier on TV, sweetheart. But it's nice to see you without those ridiculous dresses."

"Thank you." I smile politely. "Goodbye, Mr. Abernathy." I turn away from the town drunkard and begin my walk into town. The decorations and banners from yesterday have been taken down leaving the streets bare. It's still pretty early so I don't expect for there to be people around but there are. There are hundreds of people walking from shop to shop, house to house. In no other District do people behave like this.

I ask a man if he direct me to the bakery and he kindly agrees to take me.

"Thank you." I tell him when we reach the bakery. He nods and waves goodbye as he continues on his way. A couple walks out of the shop holding a box with the Mellark Bakery logo on its side.

The door opens again and I can smell the fresh bread and pastries that make my mouth water. A young man sat at the counter flipping through a book, when I come in he looks up. His deep blue eyes widen and he stands up. It's the boy from last night.

"Hello, Miss. Everdeen."

"Hello." I say. "You work here?"

"Yes." He says. The cockiness from last night is gone.

"What's your name?" A smile appears on his lips.

"You don't know?" He asks. I turn my head to the side. Did he tell me his name after all?

"No. Should I?"

"Well, you have sent me enough invitations." He chuckles. Damn. Even his laugh is sexy. And, now, I know who he is.

"Peeta Mellark."

"The one and only." I walk over towards the boy who always refused my invitations to the Capitol. He doesn't look anything like in he does in his pictures. He looks normal. All of the wealthy people in the Capitol wear jewels and expensive clothes and he . . . doesn't. But I can't imagine that diamonds and District 12 go well together.

"Well, it's nice to finally meet you." Now it's his turn to study me.

"Do you want anything, Miss. Everdeen?" he asks. "Cheese buns?"

"Do you make them yourself?" I dare ask. I've heard that the Mellarks have a bakery where they bake all the sweets. I used to think it was in District two – because that's what Cato told me but it would make more sense for it to be here. I can't imagine one person making hundreds of pastries a day.

"Of course I do – with the help of my family of course."

"So this really is the main Mellark Bakery." I say. "Makes sense you would build it here."

"And why is that?" Peeta asked. I set my hands on the counter and lean toward him.

"Because District 12 is very picky about whom it lets in." His eyes met mine. "No pesky Capitol girls to bother the handsome Mellark son – well, except for me."

"So, you think I'm handsome." That silly playful smirk was back.

"Of course." I blush. "And there aren't as many orders as there would be in a more populated District."

"Having fun, brother?"

I jumped. There was a young boy, not that much older than us, leaning against the back door. His eyes were the same blue as Peeta's.

"Aren't you supposed to be in the back cleaning up?" Peeta scowled.

"It's my break." He reached for a roll on one of the shelves and took a bite while looking at me. I think it was supposed to look seductive.

"No it's not."

"I'm the boss' son. I can say when my break is." Peeta looked like he was trying hard to keep from rolling his eyes. "And who might you be beautiful?"

"Katniss."

"Katniss?" The older Mellark brother eyes widen ever so slightly. "As in the Capitol's darling Princess?" I bite my tongue.

"Rye, go away." Peeta hissed.

"Fine, fine." Rye said. "I'll leave you alone with this little princess." He winked at me before walking toward the door that I assume lead to the kitchen. "But don't do anything naughty out here. You'll ruin business. Take her upstairs. Maybe we can share."

This man reminds me an awful lot of Finnick. The only difference is that Rye gets straight to the point while Finnick gives hints every now and then in order to embarrass you longer.

"Nice brother you have there."

"I know. He's the absolute best!"

"It's better than having a sister that hates you." I muttered.

"What?"

"Never mind." I quickly say. He's silent for a moment.

"Do you want anything – that is if Rye's face hasn't ruined you appetite."

"Heard that!" Rye calls from the back room.

"You were meant to!"

I laugh. "Don't worry, my appetite isn't easily ruined." I study each pastry, unsure of what they are. These are different from the ones at the Capitol. "Do you have Cheese buns?"

"Of course." He reached into the lowest part of the shelf and took out a tray of cheese buns. They were still warm. "How many?"

"Six, please." He grabbed a white box with the bakery's logo and placed six of the cheese buns into the box. He asked me if I wanted anything else. I hesitate. "I don't know. I've never seen these before."

"We have different menu's for each District and the Capitol." He says. "Would you mind if I made a recommendation?" I shake my head and gesture for him to go on. "I would go with the chocolate coconut cake. And these small cakes." He picked up a tray to show me. Various round cakes that were the size of my palm sat on the silver tray.

"I'll take two of each." I say. He nodded and reached for another box to put the cake inside. He hands me the boxes in a bag. And then I saw Prim's scowl. "Do you have any cookies or cakes a little girl might like?"

"I saw Prim eating a bunch of these at the welcoming party." He reached for a tray with flower shaped cookies.

"Perfect. I'll take those too."

"Enjoy." He smiled. I smiled back and thanked him.

I walked toward the glass door, planning on going home but my hand stopped on the door knob. I turned back to Peeta.

"You know," I start. "I'm living alone right now and it would completely suck if I didn't have anyone to share these with." Never mind there's Prim at home. She's probably just going to go straight to her room once I get there. "Do you want to come over?" Peeta's silent for a second.

"I'm sorry, Miss. Everdeen." he starts. "But I'm afraid I'm very busy today. Next time, Okay?" I smile sadly. That's always his reply.

_"I'm sorry, Miss. Everdeen. Due to a previous engagement I won't be able to attend. Next time, maybe."_ Or _'I'm afraid I'm all too busy to attend the gala this fine evening. Next time, maybe."_

"Okay. Next time."

As I'm unlocking the door to my house, I notice that Peeta didn't say 'maybe' this time.

* * *

Thank you for reading. Please Review and tell me what you think!

Btw: i recomend listening to ** Between The Raindrops by Lifehouse ft. Natasha Bedingfield.** It's such a good song and i think it fits this story perfectly**. **_(Wink, wink, hint, hint hint.)_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

* * *

I don't see Peeta Mellark for a while after our meeting. During one of her visits, Madge lets it slip that he's gone to District Seven to check on the bakeries there.

"Why is Rye still here though?" I ask. Every time I drop by the bakery he's there, ready annoy.

"Rye isn't as . . ." Madge hesitates. "I want to say popular but that kind of sound bad."

"I wonder why." I snort. Primrose, who's reading a book about plants by the fire, looks up. I don't think she's left the house in a week and I'm beginning to wonder where she keeps getting those books. I certainly don't bring them to her – I didn't even know she liked plants. I guess she could have had the book store owner bring a few here but it seems ridiculous considering it takes five minutes to walk there.

"I know Rye can be kind of annoying but he's a really good guy. You just have to get to know him." Madge says.

"Or, you know, don't." Primrose's comment takes me back. Was I an idiot to assume that Primrose might have started to warm up to me? She has been nicer since I brought home the cookies and I've made sure to involve her in more things. When I make dinner, I ask if she wants to help and I invite her to go on a walk into the forest with me. On the rare occasions that she says yes, she'll quietly walk next to me with her head in a book.

"Primrose –"

"Do you and Glimmer like to see who can fuck the most guys before their thirty? 'Cause I'm pretty sure you're winning." She snaps her book close and saunters to her room. She has never said something like that in front of someone else and I'm worried about how Madge will react. I know that Madge and Primrose talk sometimes. When I leave them alone, Madge strikes up a conversation with Primrose and they talk until I come back. At first, Madge tried to keep the conversation going with Primrose, but she refuses to say anything with me present.

"Should I leave. . .?" Madge asks. I hesitate because I don't want her to leave. I like talking to Madge but I'm pretty sure the rest of the conversation will be awkward thanks to my little sister.

"I'm sorry, Madge." I sigh. Madge shrugs and picks up her bag.

"I'll come and visit tomorrow." She smiles. I walk her to the door where she pauses and turns to face me. "Katniss, she's not bad. Put yourself in her shoes and I'm sure you'll agree." She hugs me one more time and leaves. I wait until she's in her car, speeding away before closing the door.

Agree? Agree with what? That I'm some type of slut? Does Madge agree with Primrose? I shake my head in disbelief.

I make my way to the kitchen to fetch myself something to drink and just as I'm pouring the orange juice, the music starts. I sigh. It's not the typical teen rock or pop music, no, Primrose isn't that normal. It's the stupid classical music that Primrose seems to adore. And it's not just a normal piano piece – I don't mind those. It's the blaring twenty-piece orchestra that annoys me. Don't get me wrong, I love classical music and I wouldn't mind it otherwise but this, this seems like another way Primrose is trying to get under my skin.

"Primrose!" I yell. I walk upstairs and bang on her door. To my surprise the door just slides open to reveal an empty room. I walk toward the stereo and turn off the music. She's not in her room and the window is open. "Well, damn."

0o0o0o

"So she's been sneaking out?" Johanna asks through the phone. I nod then remember that she can't see me.

"Yeah, I think so. She usually only plays the music at night."

"At night? She plays classical music at night and you never wondered why?" I can hear her disapproving tone. Johanna isn't one to judge. She lets the kids she babysits do whatever the hell they want and Johanna herself isn't exactly a rule follower.

"I don't know. It helped me sleep." I shrug.

"I still don't see the big deal. She's a big girl. She can take care of herself."

"I know." I say. "I just don't understand why she would need to sneak out. It's not like I would stop her from leaving."

"She's hiding something. I know she is." Suddenly she gasps. "You say she got all upset when you mentioned the baker – oh my god. What if she's doing that guy, Roy."

"It's Rye." I tell her. "And he's like twenty five!"

"So?"

"She's fourteen."

"And your point is…?" I scowl.

"Gross Johanna." I don't know why I called her in the first place. Annie would have been a better choice or maybe Rue. Huh, Rue's fifteen years old. She and Primrose might get along. I wonder if I can get Rue to visit District Twelve for a little bit…

"I've got to go. Pinkie is looking for me." And just as she says Pinkie, Effie's voice appears.

"Johanna! Unwanted nicknames are rude! And you are late!"

"Late for what?" I ask her.

"My parents are having a dinner with your dad's people." Johanna sighs. She ignored Effie protests. "Effie's here to make sure everyone follows the rules. You suck for leaving her with us by the way." I laugh.

"Johanna!"

"Okay, I've got to go. Good luck with Blondie." For a minute I'm wondering if she's talking about Peeta but then I realize that I haven't even told her about him.

"Thanks." I sigh. The line goes dead. Who else can I call? Finnick? No, he's on his Honeymoon with Annie. Glimmer? No, it's Saturday so she's probably out partying somewhere and I can't call Cato or Clove because they're at some camp learning even more ways to throw knives and spears. Rue and Thresh are probably helping with the gathering in their District. I need more friends.

"Katniss!" Primrose yells. I jump and drop my phone. She appears behind me a minute later. "What were you doing in my room?"

"I was looking for you and the music was loud." I say. "Where were you by the way?"

"I was in the bathroom." She scowled. I roll my eyes. Okay, sure.

"Really?" I mutter. "Look, I get that you don't like me but there isn't a need to sneak around. I don't care where you go. I'm not your mom." Primrose is silent. I see the blood drain from her face and her eyes get this torture look. I regret my words the instant I see her pained expression. "Prim –"

"Shut up." She scowls. "Just. Shut. Up." She runs back up the stairs.

0o0o0o

As I'm sitting in the living room Madge's words come back to me. "put yourself in her shoes." Primrose's mother committed suicide the night she was free from Prim. The nurse had left to go check on the baby, who had been moved to another room in order to let Selene rest. The nurse came back to find Selene hanging from the ceiling. A week later they found Selene's private diary and in the last entries the words "Too much" were written over and over. A picture of my father with a very pregnant Selene was taped to the page. They say she always hated the spotlight, she would have never married the President if she didn't love my father. Before she married she made it clear that she didn't want kids and, I guess, the pressure a baby would bring was too much on her.

I wonder if Primrose blames herself for her mother's death.

The doorbell rings before I can convince myself to go upstairs. I open the large brown door without looking to see who it is. My eyes widen as I take in the sight of Peeta Mellark standing on my doorstep.

His hair is wet from the walk to the car. The rain really started to come down hard in the past thirty minutes. His clothes are slightly wet and beads of water still hang on the ends of his blonde locks. Damn. He looks hot.

"Hey." He said.

"Hi." I stood in the doorway, unsure of what else to do.

"I brought some pastries."

"Oh, I didn't order anything – but Primrose might –"

"Prim didn't order these. I just brought some things I thought you might like."

"Oh, that was really nice of you." I smile. I take the bag from him. "Would you like to come inside and dry off for a bit?" He flashes a smile that makes my knees feel weak.

"Yeah, thanks." He walks into the house but not before wiping his shoes off on the doormat. I hold back a smile.

There really isn't much in here to show save for the furniture that was already here. There are no real frames or knick-knacks, nothing to show that two teenage girls live here.

"Nice house." Yet he still says that.

"Let's go into the family room, its warmer there." He follows me. I can tell he's pleasantly surprised by the warmth and homeliness of the family room. The fire from an hour ago is still burning and the bookshelf is filled with my most beloved books as well as some of Primrose's plants and biology books. There's a picture of my dad and me hanging on the wall.

"I like this room." He chuckles.

"Me too." And I do because from the window I can see the woods. Occasionally I'll see a Mockingjay fly past the window and squirrels and, if I'm lucky, I'll see a flash of a deer. "So, to what do I owe this honor?"

"I told you I would visit." He says. "I don't break promises."

"I wasn't really going to hold you to it anyway." I mutter mostly to myself. He pretends not to hear me and I know he's pretending because his body becomes stiff – not that I was looking at his body.

"The pastries are some of the ones that are unique to District Twelve. You probably will never see them outside of the District." He tells me. He opens the bag and takes out five small boxes – the king his bakery uses for cakes and breads.

"This one is called a Rhubarb Strawberry Crisp." He tells me as he takes out he brown and red dish. "It's one of the mayors favorite and you can find countless strawberries outside of the District gates." The pastry is still warm and I can smell the strawberry. He places a piece in front of me and a spoon.

"It smells delicious." I smile and take a bite of the Crisp. "And it's delicious too."

"I'm glad you like it." He chuckles. "Next we have the Orange Cookies, Goat Cheese and Apple Tarts. . ."

"You're trying to make me fat!" I laugh.

"Just try the Cookies, they're delicious." And they were. And so were the breads filled with this sweet yellow cream as well as the tarts and cakes with coconut. Everything was delicious. I felt like I was going to throw up by the time we were done.

"Is this some kind of promotional stunt?" I joke. "Get me to fall even more in love with your food." Peeta rolls his eyes.

"Hardly, there are no photographers here anyway."

"What a shame. I think I might need evidence."

"Evidence for what?"

"To prove that I spent the evening with the mysterious Mellark." I take another bite of the cookies he brought. Peeta rolls his gorgeous bright blue eyes. His eyes. . . wow, they are so blue. They're a blue that no one can recreate. No surgeries or contacts can duplicate his blue. It's breathtaking. He's breathtaking.

"I'm hardly mysterious." He says.

"Oh, but you are. Barely anyone has seen you." I say. "Up close, I meant. Sure there are pictures but. . ."

"But what?"

"You don't look anything like your pictures."

"Neither do you." He smirks. I laugh.

"Is that a bad thing?" I dare ask.

"No. I like woman without feathers and sparkles." He says. Then his eyes narrow mischievously. "Real life fits you very well." I curse myself for blushing. But I won't let him win.

"I could say the same about you." I mutter. "You're eyes are blue enough without Photoshop."

"Oh?" He raises his blonde eyebrow. "Dare I say you like my eyes?" I nod slowly.

"Of course." I whisper. He doesn't tear his eyes from mine and I can't so much as breath. Damn those blue eyes.  
Silence consumes us and i'm overwhelmed with the need to touch him. Finally he stands up and grabs his jacket.

"I better get going. I don't trust Rye at the bakery for too long." He chuckles. "Maybe I'll see you tomorrow." There's that maybe again.

"Okay." I say. "I'll walk you out." He pauses at the doorstep.

"It was really nice getting to know you," he smiled. Then he turned around, got in his car, waved, and drove off.

* * *

I am overwhelmed with the response this story got. Thanks everyone who added this to their favorites and follows. Thank you to those who reviewed the last chapter. They really mean a lot to me! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and don't forget to review and tell me what you think!


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